Do you know the lore of the crimson rose and the thorns? The thorns resented the glory of the rose and the curses that came their way. It grew and turned them insane. In a moment of madness they gored her petals over and over until her flesh bled out red. The thorns didn’t know that even then she would be beautiful and she would be reborn as a dragon rose with white stripes, a souvenir of the scars left by the thorns.
I asked him, ” Did you get the milk and bread?” He said ” Understanding the question is half the answer” I said, “I will then serve philosophy as breakfast” He called me ‘xanthippe’ That’s how the fight started.
I say, behind every Xanthippe, there is a man who always forgets what she asked him to do.
Is something wrong? Her answer was always ” No, Nothing” Nothing actually held all the things that upset her. It held her silent want for him to hear her unspoken words , Her longing for him to stay a moment more and ask her again what is wrong. He never did and her nothings filled with everythings were always rendered nugatory by his wrong moves.